Straight On 'Til Morning
by stark-fire
Summary: Hook attempts to comfort Emma as she deals with the kidnapping of her son. He doesn't quite expect her reaction. Set directly after the events of 2x22. One-shot.


Hook's warnings had been clear. There were to be no midnight swims in the warm Neverland water, never lean too far over the edge, and anything on the horizon that wasn't the rising sun was sure to be deadly. This was not a fairytale, Rumple had reiterated, and this land was nothing like anything they could ever imagine. Expect the unexpected, Hook advised.

When they had finally arrived in Neverland's waters, Emma understood completely. The mist from the waves crashing alongside the boat was warmer than any Storybrooke summer, the sky was a brilliant blue without a single cloud, and the wind felt like the air of a mother's embrace. Emma had taken a deep breath in and knew in an instant that the allure was a dangerous one. The brightest days have the darkest nights.

Or, well, so she thought. Emma stood with her arms on the edge of the ship, eyes upturned towards the midnight sky. She had never seen so many stars, each one piercing through with the brilliance of a hundred suns. She wondered how Hook could even manage to navigate with such a faulty sky. Every time she thought she could spot the North Star, she found an even brighter star. _Straight on 'til morning_, she thought. Maybe it didn't matter where "straight" was heading, maybe it was just about continuing on deeper into the heart of Neverland.

And if Emma knew anything about Henry, it was that he always managed to find a heart in the darkness. Yeah, she definitely knew that.

"There is no North Star in Neverland," Hook's voice caught her slightly off-guard. She hadn't even heard him leave the helm, but there he was next to her. She didn't even spare a glance. She could feel it. "Neverland's waters are enchanted, so as long as you keep sailing onward they'll carry you to shore."

"Is that why you say your ship can sail herself?" Emma asked, not really interested in an answer, but even less interested in silence.

"Well she is made out of enchanted wood, perfect for traversing the realms," He laid his hand down on the railing, "so regardless of the water's enchantment, she would bring us to your son, Swan."

Emma nodded, looking back down towards the waters. Silently thanking them because there's nothing else she can do. There is no trail. No sign of Henry or Greg and Tamara. There is no other path they can try. On the open sea, this boat, well, ship, is her only hope of ever finding Henry again. She had spent all day arguing with Mary Margaret, neck and neck with Gold, and at the end of Regina's very short fuse. She was the only one who hadn't come to terms with how little they could do. David had assured her that all hope wasn't lost, that it never would be as long as they were together. Emma would find her son again. They would be a family again. No, not again, they would be a family _finally_.

"I often found Milah out here, looking out into the waters," His voice was soft, "Often when she was thinking about Baelfire. I know we've had our differences, Swan, but I am sorry—"

"No," she whispers, "You don't get to do that."

Hook turned in her direction, head tilted, "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"You don't get to sit here and tell me how sorry you are for Neal, because that's not what you do, okay?" She looked up for the first time and catches his icy blue gaze, "That's not what we are, so stop it with the fluffy shit Hook. I don't need you to feel bad for me, I don't need you to comfort me, I just need you to look me in the eye and tell me the we are going to find my son."

"I can't do that."

She pushed him back, stepping away from the edge and turning to face him, "Why not, Hook!? Why can't you tell me that we're going to find my son?"

"Because," He raised his voice and took a step towards her, their bodies only inches apart, "You'd call the lie before it even passed my lips, Swan!"

"So you said you were going to help me find my son!" Her fists are flying into his chest before she can even think, "You told me you cared, you came back to help us so why aren't you helping us, why haven't we found my son!?"

"Bloody hell, Swan!" Hook smacked her hands away, closing the space between them. Her breathing was heavy and her golden blonde locks were frazzled around her tired face. She could hardly stand on her own two feet, exhaustion causing her clenched fists to loosen at her sides as she looked up to him with wide eyes.

"I cannot promise the safe return of your son," He spoke slowly, his voice a rasped whisper, "But hear me when I say this, love. I will do everything in my power to reunite your family. Come storm or siege, I will try to bring your son back to you even if it costs me my own life, do you understand me?"

Emma's eyes softened, the tension in her shoulders dissipating. Her mouth fell open, but nothing emerged.

"Have I told you a lie?"

She pushed away from him, letting the breath she had been holding out, "I'm sorry, Hook. I should be thanking you for everything you've done. I've just been so caught up—"

"No," He smirked, "Sorry lass, you don't get to do that."

She stopped in her tracks. She hadn't quite expected to feel the bite of her own words quite so quickly, but Hook had a funny way of doing that—of knowing. Knowing just when she needed someone to recognize she was hurting, but to also know that this was neither the time nor the place, and there would be plenty of time for tears when Henry was safe in her arms on the journey home.

They both returned to the edge of the ship, their arms folded over the rail looking up towards the stars overhead. The same stars that Henry had looked at, was looking at, and she took a deep breath before mentally wishing for his safe return home. Somewhere, she knew he could feel it. He had to. He had to know she wouldn't give up on him; she would never give up on him. Come storm or siege, hell or high water. After all, what good is being a savior if you can't save the one person who saved you?

"For the record," her voice startled them both as she spoke, "No one is going to die bringing Henry home. Not even you."

"That sounds like a promise, love," Hook smirked, "Care to seal it with a kiss?"

"Oh come off it, Hook. I'm serious."

He flashed her a bright smile, "As am I, darling."

"You're impossible."

"Most would say striking."

"Really, Hook?" Emma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "You know what, I'm exhausted and we've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I'm going to go down and try to get a few hours of sleep, you should probably do the same."

"A Captain's job is never done, love." He watched her walk passed him, her arm brushing his as she made her way across the deck. Her footsteps stopped abruptly, so much so that Hook's breath caught in his throat.

"Everything alright, Swan?"

With her back still turned, Emma began to speak, "If we were different, I would tell you that I don't know what I would do without you right now. Somehow you are the only reason my family has any chance of being whole again. Now I don't know who you've been or where you came from, but I know you cared for Ne…Baelfire, which means family isn't too distant of a term for you. I just want you to know I meant what I said back in Storybrooke, we are in this together. And we do not turn our back on family."

She takes a deep breath, "Except for right now, I am literally turning my back only because I can feel that stupid smirk all the way from here so—thank you, Hook."

Before Hook could even open his mouth to respond, she was below deck, and he couldn't hide his smile. After all the stars were too bright tonight to find any trace of darkness in his heart. Hook made his way back towards the helm, taking the wheel in his hand and looking up at the illuminated sky.

He would get Emma back to Henry. He owed it to Milah, to Baelfire, to Emma, and most of all—to himself. When the sun rose, he was their best chance. So thank the gods that the darkest nights would carry them towards the brightest dawns.

As long he kept them sailing straight on until morning.


End file.
